The Bachelor Party
by Racey
Summary: Ichigo's carelessness gets him into a sticky situation, so he has one last night to enjoy his freedom. AU, ONESHOT, yaoi, swearing, violence.


**THE BACHELOR PARTY**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

It was _his_ night, meant to be one last celebration, one last "hoo-rah!" before he became a married man and figuratively condemned himself to a life of monogamy.

_Couldn't you just smell his excitement?_

Ichigo's hand tightened around the short, sturdy glass of tequila as he forced his mind away from his upcoming morning. He wanted to get good and wasted, hangover and all, before he stood at an altar, in front of God and everyone else he knew, and married the woman of his dreams.

_Insert snort please_.

Ichigo licked the juncture between the thumb and index finger of his left hand and held it out for his best friend and partner in crime to sprinkle with salt. Renji – already drunk and wearing a goofy, lop-sided grin – spread a little too much salt, but Ichigo didn't really notice, the edges of his mind already dimming and blending together. He enthusiastically licked the salt off his hand, his tongue tingling and stinging all at the same time, before he took a deep breath and sucked down the shot of tequila. His throat, chest and stomach ignited almost instantaneously, making him nearly choke on the fiery liquid.

"Ah, don' be a bitch, Ichigo! Thiz' only yer thir-fourth shot," Renji slurred, tongue loosened from the many shots and bottles of beer he'd already consumed.

Ichigo grinned through the blaze in his mouth that was slowly simmering and settling into a pleasant numbness. _It was really his sixth, but who was he to rain on Renji's parade?_"Fuck you," he spat before sucking strongly on the slice of lime Renji had just shoved at him.

Uproarious cheering and laughter erupted throughout the spacious living room they were in. Ichigo's college classmate and friend, Chado Yasutora, had agreed to holding the lecherous affair called a bachelor party, at his home. Although it was meant to be a surprise, Ichigo had known that at least one of his friends would throw him a farewell party for his manhood. It was inevitable with the group of miscreants he hung out with.

_Not to mention, none of them liked his future wife-to-be_.

Ichigo's mind tipped onto its side briefly, the alcohol seemingly seeping into the cracks of his brain. But even though he was very close to being intoxicated - in fact, he was teetering dangerously on the verge of being wasted (he could never hold his alcohol well; it usually turned him into an angry, horny drunk) - his mind went where it had been living for the past two months.

_His soon-to-be bride_.

Orihime Inoue had been the worst mistake of his life and he would freely admit it. Spoiled, naive, conceited to the point of disgusting and more beautiful than any other female he'd ever seen: Inoue was all those things and more. Ichigo had been warned several times not to mess with the apricot-haired beauty. He'd been _warned_ to keep his bisexual tendencies _away_ from _that_one, but he wouldn't have been himself if he hadn't had been a hardheaded bastard, and even against advice from his smartest friend, Uryuu Ishida, he had gone and slept with the bane of the male population's existence.

It had been at a party, one of those occasions where he and his friends were strictly looking to get trashed and laid. Ichigo, even though he'd been beyond drunk, remembered that night perfectly, every detail - OK, not every detail; mostly the important ones - memorized in HD clarity. It had been six of them. Ichigo, Renji, Ishida, Chado, Nnoitra and Nnoitra's co-worker, Ulqui-something or other.

Ichigo had known Renji since forever, when they were just snot-nosed kids, running around in pull-ups and playing "Duck, Duck, Goose." Renji and his parents had moved onto Ichigo's block when the two boys had only been three years old. Renji, the tall, fire engine red head, was his best friend, his right hand, his ace and Ichigo didn't see that changing anytime soon. There was too much solid history between them, from going to school together, going through puberty together (Ichigo had been miserable when Renji had shot to an overwhelming height of 6'1" his first year of high school, leaving him an unworthy 5'6". Then, Junior year had hit and Ichigo had finally managed to gain some inches, not quite catching up to Renji, but still, taller all the same), to losing their virginity together. They had done it all, like a true magnificent duo, gaining them the collective nicknames of "Ren & Stimpy", which didn't even faze Renji when people referred to him as Stimpy, the red, stupid sidekick to an angry little chihuahua.

Didn't bother Ichigo either.

_Long story short, they were closer than brothers_.

Ichigo had met Uryuu Ishida in high school, Freshman year, when he'd cheated off the boy's Biology test and ended up getting them both in trouble, earning them a detention and twin zeroes because the teacher had automatically assumed they'd been in it together. Ishida had been pissed, thinking his reputation had been damaged beyond repair, but Ichigo had long learned to adapt a "fuck-it" attitude towards life, especially during high school. Ichigo still remembered the conversation he'd had with the skinny, raven-haired boy all those years ago.

_"What the hell is wrong with you? I can't believe you cheated off my test! Where's your pride?" Ishida snapped._

_Ichigo snorted, then kicked his feet up on the desk in front of him as he leaned back and carelessly folded his hands in his lap. He studied Ishida's crimson face, dark-blue eyes glittering with fury behind a pair of silver, rectangular frames. Ishida had on a gray, short-sleeved polo, all of the buttons buttoned, khaki pants that were settled neatly at his waist and pressed and creased enough to last the rest of their days, a black, leather belt and black, leather loafers WITH the pennies._

_Ishida's clothes fucking SCREAMED "nerd."_

_But his eyes screamed "fighter."_

_"Look, Ishida," Ichigo started. "There's three kinds a'people in this world. There's the nerds an' overachievers, with absolutely no life, that are destined to be engineers and scientists, which is where you're TRYIN' to fit in. Then, there's the guys like me, who just don' give a shit about...shit. We can still scrape by in order to do what we need, but in the long run, we don't have the energy required to really give a fuck about this school shit. Lastly, there's the category you TRULY fall into."_

_Ishida stiffened in his seat, his foot tapping impatiently as if to give off the air of annoyance, but Ichigo knew it was because he was nervous. Ichigo was landing too close to home for the raven-haired boy and it scared him._

_"Ya see, then there's the majority of the population. They YEARN." Ishida scowled, but refused to speak. Ichigo knew he wouldn't get a comment out of the stubborn boy anyway, so he gave a lazy, one-shouldered shrug and continued. "They yearn to be a part of the other sides, sort of like a best of both worlds kinda thing. Ya got your jocks, who are overachievers in their own right, but half the time, lack the intelligence it takes to truly be a part of the nerd squad. Then, there are those that are in the nerd squad, but not really. They're smart, they overachieve, they even have the look down to a science, but their heart's not in that shit." Ichigo watched in satisfaction as Ishida's face paled slightly and his shoulders tensed. "They hate authority, but have the sense to adhere to the rules and mores of society. They wanna say 'fuck this' so badly, they can taste it, but they're too afraid to lose face in all they've already accomplished. Point, blank, period, they play both sides of the fence. Know why?" Again, Ishida didn't speak, but his eyes definitely wanted the answer. "'Cuz it's safe there. When you don't lean towards an extreme - in this case, specific parties - no one tends to judge. No one will point out that you're an indecisive, wishy-washy wannabe with no backbone, too scared to stand up for what you really want or believe in," Ichigo ended scornfully, his upper lip curling back as he left Ishida to stew in his explanation._

After that day, Ishida had gained a new form of grudging respect for Ichigo, which had quickly turned into a friendship, when Ishida stopped donning his nerd-wear and began falling into his real personality. Ichigo assured him it was OK to be smart, but still be yourself. No one would say anything and that was exactly what Ishida had done.

_Thus, their bond had been forged_.

He, Renji and Ishida had all ended up attending the same college, where they'd met Chado Yasutora and Nnoitra Jiruga. Chado was tall, intimidatingly so, but Nnoitra won that card game hands down, no competition whatsoever. Where Chado was around 6'4", 6'5" and nothing but solid muscle, Nnoitra was damned near seven feet and thin as a straw. The two men were completely different, personality-wise, Chado being more sedate and serious, whereas Nnoitra was outgoing and crass. He bit his tongue for _no one_ and furthermore didn't require anyone's opinion of him in order to do whatever the fuck he wanted.

Ichigo admired that in him. He actually related to it and often saw himself in the tall, slinky man.

Chado had wavy, shoulder-length, brown hair that he let fall in front of one of his dark-brown eyes and his skin was the color of caramel syrup. He was quiet as a rock and never really made his presence felt, unless he really knew you. Then, he opened up and showed the side of himself that had attracted Ichigo to him like a fly to fresh poop. Chado was fiercely loyal, kind, sensible and surprisingly funny. He would sometimes catch Ichigo off guard with a joke, which always made it more funny than it actually was.

They had met in a Literature class and Ichigo had been assigned to be his partner for a collaborative report. After spending a little time with the guy, Ichigo had discovered his true personality and they'd become inseparable. Renji had even had a jealous episode when Ichigo began spending more and more time with the quiet giant. That had been quickly dispelled when Chado, himself, had told Renji that there was no way he could interfere, or come between a friendship like his and Ichigo's. He had seen for himself how close they were and knew that their friendship was something special. He'd gone on to explain that he only wanted to try and become a part of their little crew, which they both had readily and openly accepted.

Nnoitra, on the other hand, with his long, crow-black hair and white bandana covering his left eye, had been a little harder to befriend, not that Ichigo had offered the man an olive branch. They'd had Anthropology together, and Ichigo had been held so spellbound by the sheer length of the man, that he hadn't realized he'd been staring at him. Nnoitra had promptly handed him a nice finger gesture, accompanied with an expert sneer before moving right along. Ichigo had found the event amusing, but had later found that that was all a part of the glorious Nnoitra Jiruga package.

After that first encounter, Nnoitra had taken to calling Ichigo Pansy Boy because of his hair, which the idiot had sworn up and down was dyed, completely unnatural. Ichigo hadn't taken kindly to the man's disrespectful nickname and the situation exploded in violence one day after classes. Nnoitra had been standing outside of the campus, casually lighting a cigarette, when Ichigo had been walking by with Ishida, Renji and Chado. Nnoitra had immediately spotted him and called out with the usual derogatory moniker. Ichigo, in turn, had instantly bristled, his back stiffening into something akin to steel. When he'd whirled around to face the man, Nnoitra had been wearing a spectacular sneer, his cigarette hanging from the corner of his lips. Ichigo hadn't wasted time and stalked directly up to the towering asshole, where he'd used his fists as a form of greeting, punching Nnoitra in his gut, which had made the man bend at the waist in surprise. It had also made his cigarette tumble to the ground and his visible eye narrow with vengeance.

_But his face had been left wide open_.

Ichigo, not being one to skip out on an opportunity, had straightaway connected fist to jaw, making Nnoitra stumble backwards before ass-planting in the lush, green grass of the campus lawn. Renji had been howling with uncontrollable laughter, while Chado and Ishida had merely looked on in morbid curiosity. Ichigo had been left standing and snarling like a rabid dog, but instead of the surge of anger he'd been expecting from the taller man, he got an amused chuckle. Nnoitra had stared up at him, his bottom lip cut and swelling, before finally telling him that he had been hoping that Ichigo wasn't really a Pansy Boy. After recovering from the initial shock that statement had drawn, Ichigo had laughed and offered his hand to help Nnoitra to his feet.

_From then on, a new member of the group had been initiated_.

They were a tightly knit family and anyone that knew them, also knew that trouble was never too far behind them, no matter where they went.

_Which brought him back to the night he threw his life away and slept with Inoue_.

It had been approximately eight months ago. The party had been epic, with alcohol and hot men and women in abundance. Ichigo had been wearing his libido on his sleeve that night, so it had been no surprise that Inoue had settled him in her sights. _Hell, he'd had her in his sights, too, even after Nnoitra and Renji had told him – in not too kind words – not to fuck with the vixen across the room_. Ichigo had even ignored Chado's wisely stated comments of hearing that she wasn't a nice girl, which, in Chado-speak, meant that Inoue was a whore of legendary status.

_He still hadn't cared_. _Shit, he didn't want a RELATIONSHIP_. _He just wanted to get laid_.

Then, Ishida had driven in the knife, by laying out careful statistics and nonchalantly expressing that Ichigo should _at least_ listen to the rumors because, where there was smoke, there had to be fire.

_Again, he hadn't listened_.

Everything his friends had told him had nicely gone in one ear and smoothly out the other. The alcohol he'd consumed hadn't made things any better and by the end of the night, Inoue had been looking so good, Ichigo had been tripping over himself just to get to her. She hadn't really made things hard for him, either. All night, they'd made lusty eyes at one another, Ichigo shamelessly staring her down and visually undressing her curvy form that had barely been hidden beneath a gray and white, plaid, pleated mini-skirt and a tight, white, stretchy-cotton, short-sleeved t-shirt, with a neckline so low, any false move and she would have been displaying her double Ds to the entire room.

Ichigo remembered with dread how he had slowly crossed the room and approached her. She'd smiled up at him demurely, her fingers twisting a coil of her long, wavy, apricot-hued hair between them. She had smelled like sin and sweets and Ichigo hadn't been able to resist. He'd dragged her to the second floor of the house (he forgot the guy's name that had been throwing the party, but Ichigo remembered the guy answering the door and dazzling him with a brilliant, canine-heavy grin, wild, bright blue hair and gorgeous, sea-blue eyes), where he'd proceeded to nail her to the wall.

He supposed he should have known something was wrong after he'd fit the condom over his ridiculously demanding erection and slid into her. She hadn't been as tight as he'd been expecting, but in his lust-driven, alcohol-laden mind, he hadn't cared. She had been there, willing, and she was hot and wet and that was all that had ultimately mattered.

_God, he wished he'd listened to his friends back then_.

As soon as Ichigo had achieved what he'd set out to do, the room door had swung open and banged against the wall with such force, it had scared him and Inoue, making them both jump. There had been a guy standing in the doorway, his face shadowed by the darkness of the room, but the white, sleeveless hoodie and matching, white basketball shorts he'd worn had seemed to glow. When he'd finally stepped into the room, Ichigo had felt a distinct sensation of being caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

It had been the host with the untamed mane of blue hair and stunning, blue eyes.

Back then, those eyes hadn't seemed so happy.

In fact, they had been positively livid.

"_If you don' get the fuck outta my room, I'm gonna cut off yer nuts an' mail 'em ta ya," the blue-haired man growled, shoulders bunched in fight mode._

_Inoue squeaked and pulled her skirt back into place over her hips before covering her naked chest as best she could. She dipped down and grabbed her shirt and bra from the floor, then scurried from the room like a frightened rabbit. Ichigo just snorted and tugged the condom from his limp member, not even caring that the blue-haired man was still glaring machetes at him. He'd already gotten what he'd come there for, so no prick with a stick up his ass was going to ruin his post-coital high._

_No matter HOW good he looked._

_After Ichigo disposed of the condom in a napkin he had stored in the back pocket of his jeans, he went about pulling said jeans up around his waist, relocating them from their previous position of around his ankles. He swayed a bit, the alcohol in his system still keeping his center of balance off kilter. Once he buckled his belt, he turned to face the man still standing quietly in the doorway. Those eyes were still just as blue as they had been the first time Ichigo had seen them, but now they were glittering with barely concealed contempt and malice._

_OK, understandable. Ichigo HAD just fucked a girl in the man's room. Granted, he hadn't had time to utilize the bed, but still. He supposed it was the principle of the whole thing._

_Ichigo sauntered towards the man, careful not to step in the direct line of fire, but also eager to leave the room and the guy's drilling scrutiny. He was just walking past the man, when he spoke. "Yer friend said ya liked guys."_

_Ichigo turned to face him, which really wasn't much since the man was, not only taller than him by several inches, but also because the man was merely glancing at him over his broad shoulder. Ichigo took that time to observe him more closely. He really was breathtaking. His hair wouldn't settle down, his eyes were like blue fire and his body resembled something from the Greek days of old, when guys like Hercules had still been around. His arms were sculpted with tightly corded muscle and Ichigo could just imagine the rest of his body being made from the same divine material, if the silhouette of washboard abs and a finely chiseled chest beneath that tight, white hoodie was any indication._

_Why hadn't Ichigo taken more notice of this man before now?_

_Oh, yeah. _

_Inoue._

_It was then that the man's statement came crashing back at him, making him frown a little as he arched a brow. He didn't get a chance to speak, though, because the man was again talking to him from over his shoulder. "Was he wrong?"_

_Ichigo huffed in annoyance and glared down at his sneakers. He wasn't drunk enough to not realize that one of his friends had indirectly put his business out there. Not that it mattered. He wasn't ashamed of being bisexual, but still. If he'd wanted a stranger to know his sexual preferences, he would have done the telling himself. _

_After a long, drawn-out sigh and a hand plowing through his hair, he gazed wearily at the blue-haired man. "No, but I don' really see wha' tha' hassa do wit' me havin' sex in yer room," he slurred._

_It was definitely crash time._

_The blue-haired man slowly turned to face him, overpowering Ichigo with a disgusting case of sinfully sexy. Ichigo watched helplessly as full lips formed words. "Nah, yer right. I was jus' curious."_

_Ichigo could normally spot a liar a mile away, but in his state, he couldn't even tell if a fly landed on his nose. So, instead of wasting the energy required to display confusion and suspicion, he nodded and leisurely ambled down the hall, down the stairs and back to his friends, where, hopefully, he would be off to his home; he was determined to sleep away his inebriation._

_He kind of missed the look of disappointment in the blue-haired man's arresting, blue eyes, though._

The thought of that gorgeous, blue-haired man always gave Ichigo an instant issue in his underwear, but tonight it made him plop heavily into one of Chado's recliners. Renji had shoved off, briefly abandoning their game of who-can-drink-the-most-shots-without-urking-all-over-the-place, and leaving Ichigo to his own devices. Now, due to his predicament with Inoue, he always thought of the blue-haired man with a sense of utter disappointment and failure.

After that fateful night, he hadn't seen or heard from Inoue for three whole months, but when he finally did, his entire world had come crashing down on his head. He remembered being ensconced in his office at work, pouring over a roll of blueprints for the new building he had just designed for the downtown, business district. His intercom had interrupted his musings and his secretary, a cute, dark-haired female he'd been sleeping with, had informed him of an urgent call on line one. His secretary, Rukia Kuchiki, hadn't sounded pleased, so Ichigo had been left to assume that it had been one of his flings on the phone.

_In a sense, he hadn't been totally off_.

When he'd answered the phone and heard the young, childish voice on the other line, he'd nearly hung up. Before he could, the caller had gone on to identify herself. He was left wondering how the hell she had found him; _how the hell had she even gotten his work number?_ She hadn't even given him time to digest her random call before blurting out that she was pregnant and that they needed to talk, and that was when the Earth stopped spinning and the sun stopped shining.

Ichigo remembered clearly falling back into his black, leather office chair, flabbergasted, but still holding tight to the receiver of the phone, the black, spiral cord swinging listlessly between him and his desk. His breathing had taken a vacation and his blood had dropped to arctic temperatures as he listened to Inoue ramble off a meeting spot. When he'd hung up, all he'd been able to do was sit and stare at the phone in utter astonishment. He hadn't gotten any work done for the rest of that day, but he'd refused to leave his office until he'd absolutely had to. Rukia had left early, still pissed about Inoue's call, but he'd barely registered it.

_Hadn't he used a condom?_

He always used a condom when he slept with someone, male or female. When it was a male, he always made sure his partner strapped up before diving in and when he was with a female, it was always him doing the strapping up. Than again, he wasn't so naïve to believe that accidents couldn't and didn't happen.

_Still_...

_It had been a heavy blow to his ego and pride hearing those words coming from a girl like Inoue_.

Ichigo had ended up biting the bullet and going to meet with her. He couldn't just say no and avoid her. _He wasn't that much of an asshole_. So, he'd met her at a park a few blocks away from his job, his white, dress shirt, black slacks and black tie making him feel completely out of place. As soon as he'd entered the park, he'd spotted her on a bench near the swings and monkey bars. Her appearance had been drastically altered from what he'd remembered of her at that party. She had been wearing a white, three-quarter sleeved cardigan, gray slacks and gray flats. Her long hair had been neatly tied back in a ponytail and her face had been devoid of make-up, making her appear younger and completely innocent. If Ichigo hadn't remembered her vivid hair color, he wouldn't have even recognized her.

_What he HAD failed to notice was the presence of two older people, one male and one female_.

As he'd progressed towards the bench and the woman claiming to be the vessel of his future child, his eyes had finally managed to take in the elderly couple standing beside her. Ichigo had had an intense moment of vertigo, but he'd forged ahead and stopped in front of Inoue, dread sliding around in the pit of his stomach and his mind conjuring ominous claps of thunder.

Long story short, the couple had been Inoue's GRANDPARENTS and had seen fit to inform Ichigo that yes, their GRANDDAUGHTER was indeed pregnant, but not only that, she was only EIGHTEEN to boot. Which, of course, was perfectly legal, but all the same, they were a pretty wealthy family and didn't want their flawless social standing tarnished because of a wayward teen. Ichigo had been floored, but more so, he'd been pissed. _Sure, he should have asked Inoue about her age, but who would be thinking of something like that, with the girl's VERY MATURE body parts hanging out of her clothing, while she tempted older guys into sleeping with her?_

_No one, that's who_.

More of the long story made short, Ichigo had been pressured into marrying her, lest his old man find the clinic in need of rescuing. Ichigo already hated uppity, rich folks and Inoue's grandparents had only solidified his distaste. Needless to say, he hadn't been about to let his old man suffer the consequences of his stupid mistake, so, he'd, again, bitten the bullet and formally asked for Inoue's hand in marriage. Of course, with her grandparents pulling the strings, the marriage had been scheduled for as soon as possible. _Before the birth of the baby, preferably_.

_Hence, his current situation_.

_Bound to a marriage that he didn't even expect, let alone want_.

When his friends had found out just how _deeply_ Inoue's treachery had gone, they had _all_ been ready to do major damage. Ichigo remembered having to dissuade Renji and Nnoitra from setting fire to Inoue's grandparents' BMW _after_ wanting to fill the gas tank with sugar. Ishida had been cleverly devising a plan that would have brought about Inoue's family's swift destruction, but Ichigo hadn't wanted any parts of that, either. And for once, Chado hadn't been the voice of reason. He'd been quietly angry enough to create several volleyball sized holes in the wall of the local IHOP's bathroom.

Ichigo had waved them all off, telling them that it was his own fault for not listening to them back when they had been trying to save his life, in a sense. Now, he would deal with those consequences like the real man that he was, and as soon as Inoue gave birth, he would request a paternity test. If it was proven that the baby wasn't his, he was going to annul their farce of a marriage and move on, hoping like hell that something heavy and fast turned Inoue into a fleshy pancake.

Ichigo shifted on the recliner as he squeezed his eyes shut. He could feel a monstrous headache coming on and he hoped that Nnoitra had made good on his promise to have a few strippers come by. Ichigo didn't care if they were male or female; that night was his last as a free man and he was taking full advantage of it.

Just as his thoughts meandered over to a certain blue-haired man, Nnoitra staggered to the middle of the living room, his eye narrowed and bloodshot, and a shot glass filled with a brown liquid clutched in his left hand. The freakishly tall man was clearly shit-faced, but he didn't care as he opened his wide mouth and spoke. "YO!" he said a little too loudly. Ichigo grinned as he watched his friend swaying in place. "Ich, tanight's yer last night a'freedom and since tamorrow yer gonna marry the bitch from hell, me an' Red – Renji get yer ass up here, dork!"

Nnoitra scowled at Renji who was across the room, leaning against the mantle of the fireplace and obviously trying to keep his wits about him. Ichigo followed Renji with a curious gaze as the man clumsily pushed away from the mantle and stumbled over to Nnoitra. When he took his place beside the dark-haired man, he frowned and as an afterthought said, "Yer mama's a dork, ass-face."

Ichigo chuckled and shook his head. _His friends were retarded_.

_But he loved them_.

Chado and Ishida made their way to the middle of the room as well, both not as drunk as him, Renji and Nnoitra, but both wearing equally secretive grins that made the hairs on the back of Ichigo's neck stand up.

_He hated when those two got like that_.

"SO!" Nnoitra continued in his overly loud, gruff tenor. "Ich, we gotcha some booty lined up fer the night. Ready ta see?" he asked with a plotting smirk.

Ichigo smirked in return and nodded slowly. "Hell yes. Bring on the ass, my friend," he stated as enthusiastically as he could.

Nnoitra's smirk widened as he turned to the other three men gathered in the middle of the room. Chado revealed a small, black remote from the depths of his back pocket and pressed a button on it, making the lights dim and loud music erupt from the state-of-the-art sound system hidden throughout the room.

_Go, go, go, go  
>Oh lover, don't you dare slow down<br>Go longer, you can last more rounds  
>Push harder, you're almost there now<br>So go lover, make mama proud _

_And when we're done, I don't wanna feel my legs  
>And when we're done, I just wanna feel your hands all over me, baby<br>But you can't stop there, music still playing in the background  
>And you're almost there<br>You can do it, I believe in you, baby  
>So close from here<em>

_Baby I'ma be your motivation_  
><em>Go, go, go, go<em>  
><em>Motivation<em>  
><em>Go, go, go, go<em>

A wide, joyous grin morphed Ichigo's face as he sat up in the recliner and waited for the amazing to occur. Three women came from the hallway that led to the bedrooms, all of them wearing long, beige trench coats. If Ichigo judged by their appearances, he was in for a smashing good time. One had long, sea-green hair, large, wheat-gray eyes and a wide, charming smile. The next woman had short, blonde hair, skin the color of peanut butter and stunning, clear green eyes. Her expression was more serious, but no less sexy. The last woman oozed sex and confidence from the roots of her long, violet hair, down to the melon-orange polish on her toes. Her eyes were honey-gold and feral, reminding Ichigo of a tiger, and her skin was the color of milk chocolate. A harsh chill ripped down his back as the three, gorgeous women made their way to the middle of the room.

"We hope you gentlemen have a good time tonight," the violet-haired vixen said, voice a deep, throaty, feminine rumble. Ichigo exhaled forcefully at the sound. _He'd never met a woman with a voice like that before_. "I'm Mocha," she continued.

"Limon," the blonde introduced, her voice just as sultry as "Mocha's."

"And I'm Honeydew," the green-haired woman intoned, her voice higher, but still sexy.

Ichigo shifted on the recliner, his cheeks starting to hurt from how hard he was grinning. Then he nearly fell off his perch when all three women simultaneously untied their coats and eased them off, slowly letting them drop to the floor. Boobs, hips, thighs and ass was all Ichigo could see and he felt like a man set free from death row. They were all wearing scandalous, thong bikinis, except each of them represented a different color. Mocha's was black, Limon's was lime-green and Honeydew's was hot pink. Their skin was covered in body glitter and they filled the room with the heady scent of candy.

"_Oh my GOD!_" Renji shouted.

"Fuck, yeah," Nnoitra breathed, eye wide as he stared at the women.

Chado and Ishida allowed a brief moment of surprise, their eyes widening as they appreciated the immaculate beauty being displayed like an item at an auction.

Ichigo, on the other hand, was trying not to succumb to the pressure building in his sinuses. "You guys," he said with a mock sniffle and an exaggerated rub to his eyes. "You really do love me."

Everyone laughed, but the mood soon shifted back to seriousness when the women started spreading out in the room. Ichigo eagerly waited for one of the delectable chicks to come his way, but soon felt his face falling in disappointment when the girls pranced over to his friends, completely ignoring him.

_WHAT the FUCK?_

He climbed to his feet, indignant and ready to spew hell fire, but Nnoitra appeared out of nowhere and gripped his elbow, grin spread a mile wide. "Nah, nah. Calm down, Ich. Those lovely ladies weren't meant fer you," he said.

_Like HELL!_

"So, what the _hell_ was the fucking point of parading them around me, if I wasn't gonna be able to get in on the action?" he snarled, libido throwing a tantrum.

Nnoitra gently tugged his elbow and began leading him back to the bedrooms. "We gotcha somethin' extra special fer tanight. Those chicks're jus' fer lookin' good an' lap dances. You, guy? Yer gettin' LAID. I wouldn' be a good friend if I didn' send ya off wit' a bang."

Ichigo was furious, but the promise of actually having sex, rather than having his dick teased mercilessly, softened his attitude just a little. "Wh-"

"Jus' shut up an' go in the guest room," Nnoitra snapped and turned his back, obviously eager to get back to the three, dead-sexy females in the living room.

Ichigo stood in the hallway between the master bedroom and the guest room. He glanced over his shoulder and checked out the bathroom behind him, but the door was open and the interior was dark. There wasn't anyone inside ready to jump out at him and give him a heart attack, but that didn't mean anything. Nnoitra had told him to go into the guest room, which meant the person he was supposed to get entertainment from was behind that door. Ichigo swallowed and took a deep breath.

_What if it was all a big joke? What if there was someone less than desirable in the guest room, or worse yet, what if there was no one at all? Would his friends be that cruel to him?_

Ichigo shot an uncertain glance down the hall and locked eyes with a glaring Nnoitra. "Want me ta tell 'em ta go home?" he growled over the loud music and thumping bass. Ichigo shook his head vigorously, his mouth suddenly dry as a bone. He hadn't seen Nnoitra that serious since the night he'd told him the situation with Inoue. "Then, get yer ass in there!"

_He didn't need to be told twice_.

Ichigo started to knock on the door, but thought about it. Since Nnoitra had just informed him that the person behind door number three was there specifically for him, that meant they had to be expecting him, so there was no need to announce himself. He slowly pushed the door open, his heart tap-dancing with excitement and a tiny dose of apprehension. He hoped with everything he possessed that the person inside was at least attractive enough to get him aroused.

When the door swung open wide enough for him to see the interior, he realized that the atmosphere was completely different. For one, the room was lit with a black light, making the stark-white comforter on the bed glow an eerie purple. The dark-blue carpet was plush, but made the bed stand out even more and there was the faint scent of Old Spice deodorant and grape-flavored candy. Ichigo stepped into the room and closed the door behind himself, his brow furrowing and his heart skipping a beat when he didn't notice anyone inside. He kicked off his shoes at the door and had a mind to just relax on the bed, where he would bring his anger down a few notches at the cruel joke his friends had decided to play on him, but before he could even move towards the tempting furniture, music started up from the corner of the room, dwarfing the bass thumping from the sitting room. He glanced in surprise over at the stereo resting on top of the long, cherry wood dresser. His head was swimming, but he knew he wasn't imagining things. He was fucked up, but he wasn't _that_ fucked up.

_Early in the morning  
>When she's all alone<br>I'ma take my time  
>Do it how we want it<br>Just to set the mood, girl, I bought some Marvin Gaye and Chardonnay  
>So just let the song play<br>The long way  
>The strong way<br>It's our day  
>It's our way<br>A this was all inspired by a little Marvin Gaye and Chardonnay _

Ichigo listened to the lyrics while a thrill swept through him, not to mention, the bass rumbling and making his body vibrate with anticipation. _Maybe this hadn't been a joke after all_. Suddenly, a strong pair of arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him tight against a firm, broad chest. His breath suspended in mid-air and his body froze. The smell of Old Spice surrounded him, this time even stronger and Ichigo knew that his captor was, without a doubt, male.

"Ichigo Kurosaki?" a deep, slightly familiar voice rumbled in his ear, making the hairs on the back of his neck rise like the living dead.

"Uh...y-yeah?" he uttered stupidly, wanting to kick himself for sounding like such a fucking idiot.

The man chuckled, his minty breath fanning over Ichigo's cheek. He wanted so badly to turn and see who that sinful voice belonged to, but the arms wrapped around him prevented him from doing so. Speaking of those arms, as soon as the thought slithered through his mind, they eased from around his waist and captured his wrists, bringing them behind his back, where a pair of hand cuffs were snapped around them. Ichigo's eyes widened comically as he realized the implications.

_Was he being fucking arrested? On the night before his farce of a wedding?_

The voice continued, rumbling against his back. "Yer under arrest, sir," it drawled.

Ichigo found himself hyperventilating, scared enough to piss himself, wanting to tug on the cuffs, rant and rave, but refrained, merely because he didn't want to create a spectacle. "Wh-what for? What the fuck did I do?"

"Hmm," the voice hummed. "What'd ya do? I s'pose there's only one reason I'm arrestin' ya." Ichigo held his breath and waited; he seriously couldn't even _begin_ to come up with anything. "Yer crime is...yer too good-lookin' fer yer own damned good."

Ichigo opened his mouth to protest, when the statement settled in his alcohol laden brain. "What?" he asked instead.

The voice chuckled again. "You heard me."

Ichigo shook his head, a sense of relief gradually washing away the panic that had seemed to seize every muscle in his body as he realized that he wasn't really being arrested, and that looking good couldn't possibly be a crime. _At least, not realistically_. His shoulders slowly relaxed as he allowed himself to play along, a wide grin blossoming across his features. "Oh yeah?" he rumbled, lowering his voice.

"Mmhm."

Without warning, Ichigo was shoved forward onto the bed and would have face-planted had he not twisted his body at the last minute and landed on his side. He glared over his shoulder at the man that had caused him to fall so gracelessly onto the soft bed, but his expression froze, his mouth dropping open in shock.

"What the – you're-"

"Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. Tanight I'm Mr. Officer, though."

Ichigo stuttered unintelligibly, his heart shuddering and trembling uncontrollably as he stared at the blue-haired man in disbelief. He looked just as gorgeous as Ichigo remembered, but now, he was even more sinful, dressed in a black, police uniform. The short-sleeved shirt was tight across his broad chest, the pants hugging his slim hips and firm-looking ass like a long-lost lover. Black Ray Ban Aviator frames hid his eyes, but his bright blue hair was just as chaotic and sexy as Ichigo remembered. He didn't know whether to drool or what, but his body warmed several degrees just from staring at the blue-haired masterpiece.

"Mr. Officer, huh?" he inquired, wondering if he'd done something extra special to deserve such a treat.

_This beautiful man was his surprise? He would have to kiss his friends, no matter how badly they beat him down for it afterward_. _How had they known he had a thing for men in uniform?_

"Uhn," Grimmjow grunted in response.

He slowly lifted his right hand and languidly removed his shades, revealing those brilliant, royal blue eyes that were glittering with so much lechery, Ichigo felt like a stripper. When that thought crossed his mind, his eyes widened as something else dawned on him. "Uh, does that mean that yer a, well, ya know...a stripper?" he asked, feeling every bit of stupid as the words passed his lips.

Grimmjow gave him a feral grin that stretched his wide mouth across his angular face and displayed impressive canines. "I _was_. That party ya went ta was my retirement celebration. You were s'posed ta be my gift fer the night, but then ya fucked some trick in my fuckin' room. Kinda ruined the mood, ya know?" he said a bit waspishly, making Ichigo wince with regret.

_Fuck_.

_No wonder the guy had been so pissed_.

"Yeah, sorry-"

"Shut up. I ain't askin' fer an apology, idiot. I'm still gettin' what I want anyway, so it doesn' matter. Too bad I gotta give ya up tamorrow, though," Grimmjow said, his voice held a twinge of disappointment, but his expression was amused.

Ichigo bit his bottom lip and shifted on the bed, his arms and wrists starting to fall asleep from being held behind his back for so long. He felt bad for what he'd done, but Grimmjow's previous tone kept him from further discussing it. Besides, the metal from the cuffs were beginning to dig into his wrists and the alcohol he'd consumed was making his lower region furious with him. Deciding that now wasn't the time to ask questions, he hefted himself into a sitting position (which was hard as hell to do, by the way) and stared his gift down.

_He couldn't wait to unwrap this one_.

Grimmjow tossed his shades to the side, the frames clanking against something that neither one of them paid much attention to; they were too enthralled in each other to give a shit about a measly pair of sunglasses. The track switched and Ichigo felt his groin turn into a useless puddle as Grimmjow eased closer, his movements fluid and his fingers going for the buttons of his shirt.

_You know we be  
>Up in the club<br>Where we do things like  
>Throw our hands up<br>All kinds of drinks are  
>Off in the cups<br>All of my thugs  
>Honies show me love<br>DJ playing the cuts _

The drugging music tossed a cocoon around him and Ichigo watched helplessly as Grimmjow's sexy police uniform shirt was slowly unbuttoned and edged down to his sculpted shoulders. He swallowed forcefully on nothing, his throat about as dry as hot air. He wanted to swing his legs in anticipation like a toddler, but his mind was skipping over itself, rapidly going over all of the things he wanted to do to the blue-haired man stripping before him.

_Holy fuck_.

He'd only imagined a scenario similar to this about a thousand times, and to have it actually coming to life was equivalent to winning the lottery for Ichigo at the moment. Grimmjow ended up right between his legs, his masculine scent mingling with that grape candy smell again. When the man's shirt fell to the floor around his feet, thought escaped Ichigo's head through his ears and oozed out of his nose. He was mesmerized by the sight of hard lines, cut planes, smooth-looking skin and supple muscle.

_Christ_.

Grimmjow wore a wolfish smirk, his lips curved to the right as he leaned forward, making something glint in the purple glow of the black light. Ichigo frowned briefly, but when recognition hit, his mouth formed a small "O" of surprise as he lifted his head to give the other man his incredulous stare. "You-you, yer nipples are pierced!" he blurted numbly.

Grimmjow glanced down at his chest as if he'd forgotten that the silver studs were there. "Oh, yeah. I've had those fer almos' six years now," he murmured, his gaze coming back up to lazily travel over Ichigo's shocked face. His head tilted to the side. "Somethin' wrong?"

Ichigo narrowed his eyes, wondering if Grimmjow was joking. _He had to know that that shit was hot as all hell_. _He had to_. Ichigo leaned forward in order to grab the back of Grimmjow's head, forgetting that his hands were currently cuffed behind his back, and consequently growling when he did realize that he couldn't maneuver the way he'd like to. Grimmjow gave him another saucy smirk as he leaned down and rubbed his hands over Ichigo's chest, applying gradual pressure that landed Ichigo on the bed, back pressed to the soft mattress.

A few butterflies took flight in Ichigo's gut when Grimmjow's face brushed past his own, his mouth headed for his neck, where his warm lips caressed the skin over his pulse. Ichigo gave a startled grunt, his blood turning to lava and his pelvis tightening. When Grimmjow's hot tongue flicked out for a taste, Ichigo tried and failed spectacularly to stifle the almost desperate groan that ripped itself free from his chest.

_Stupid handcuffs_. _He wanted out of them now!_ The position he was in was uncomfortable at best, when he allowed his mind to dwell on it, rather than on the wonderful things Grimmjow was doing to his neck. His hands were wedged behind the small of his back, making his wrists and part of the cuffs dig into it, but when compared to the way Grimmjow nipped and laved, sucked and kissed his neck, it felt like an angel was tickling him with its feathered wings.

Suddenly, Grimmjow's weight disappeared from Ichigo's chest and his eyes that had been tightly closed, blinked open in confusion. Grimmjow was standing at the foot of the bed wearing that infernally large grin, his eyes mischievous and lusty. "I guess ya want outta them cuffs, right?" he asked, deep voice easily overlapping the music in the background.

Ichigo nodded vigorously as he forced himself into a sitting position. "Yes. _Fuck,_ yes."

Grimmjow snorted as his hands went to the black belt holding his uniform pants up. "Too bad."

Face falling to the floor, Ichigo had no choice but to watch and enjoy the rest of the show. Grimmjow had worked him into a frantic lather purposely, _the sadistic bastard_. Ichigo supposed this was a form of karma; what goes around comes around, only this way was much, much better.

The belt was agonizingly slowly undone, the same with the small, plastic button, and short train of the zipper, until Grimmjow had the pants hanging loosely from his angular, slim hips, Adonis lines crying out for attention. Ichigo spied a glimpse of bright purple underneath the pants, but ignored it in favor of the man gliding back in his direction. Grimmjow's legs kneed Ichigo's thighs apart, where he situated himself between them, like he was made expressly for that spot alone.

"Ya know, I've been wantin' ta do this fer a while now," Grimmjow murmured as his hands burrowed beneath the waistband of the black pants and began inching them over his hips.

Ichigo's mouth was already dry as a bone, but now it was positively parched, making his tongue stick to the roof and his throat close up in desperate need of moisture. He nodded, then watched as Grimmjow's movements became absolutely feral, graceful and limber, but masculine and aggressive. Ichigo glanced down at the tent formed in his jeans and grinned like a fox. Even though he was hard enough to knock down a tower, he didn't really mind. Even the thought of marrying Inoue the next morning, did nothing to hamper his joyous mood. He was actually going to get a piece of the man he'd fantasized about since the night he'd fucked Inoue and thrown his life down the toilet.

_And he absolutely couldn't wait_.

The cuffs dug into his wrists again, but he winced and ignored them. He wasn't going to complain and anger the blue-haired sex machine; he wanted to get laid, thank you very much. Grimmjow must have caught his wince, though, and grinned as the pants dropped even lower, now giving a quick view of the line of blue hair that meandered underneath the...bright purple, scandalously tight and short boxer briefs he wore. _Something looks a bit off about those underwear_, Ichigo thought as he leaned forward to get a better glance. The underwear seemed to be glossy and shining unnaturally, and the frown on his face must have indicated his confusion because Grimmjow gave an abrupt bark of laughter, deep voice making Ichigo jump and little Ichigo twitch.

"Never heard of edible undies, Ichigo?"

Eyes darkening to onyx, Ichigo groaned and whined right after. "Grimmjow-"

"'Scuse me?" Grimmjow interrupted, deep frown marring his perfect brow.

Ichigo frowned too, confused, until he remembered the name he was supposed to call Grimmjow for the evening. "Sorry. _Mr_. _Officer_, could ya _please_ take these cuffs off? I wanna touch you," he begged, knowing he sounded every bit of pathetic.

Another short laugh was his reply as Grimmjow continued to mercilessly tease him by revealing more and more of that beautiful, tanned skin. "That ain't the way this game's played, Ichigo. I make the rules, an' you? Ya follow 'em, yeah?"

Ichigo scowled at the unfairness of it all, but grinned through it. He was going to get laid, after all; he wouldn't mind playing along. He nodded and drank in the resulting, gorgeous smirk Grimmjow tossed at him. _Shit, he really didn't think he could get any harder, especially not after being informed that the enticing underwear Grimmjow had plastered to his equally enticing rear, was edible_.

Finally, the once tempting pants, but now annoying article of clothing, hit the floor and pooled at the tall, delectable man's feet before he quickly stepped out of them and kicked them aside. Next, he climbed onto the bed, shoving Ichigo backwards and making Ichigo lose his breath as Grimmjow straddled him and smothered him with sheer man. Ichigo bit his bottom lip and prayed to every spiritual being that existed that the alcohol swimming through his system would cooperate with him when the time came for him to perform.

_He didn't think passing out in the middle of boning would be such a good idea_.

"I wantcha ta lick these undies off," Grimmjow rumbled into his ear as he reached his hand under the hem of Ichigo's yellow, short-sleeved, Mello Yello t-shirt, where he lay his palm flat against his abdomen, his slightly rough skin scorching the surface. "Think ya c'n do that?"

Ichigo exhaled noisily as he nodded against Grimmjow's smooth cheek. _Grimmjow smelled so good and felt even better laying on top of him_. "Yeah, I can do that."

"Good."

Grimmjow rolled from on top of Ichigo, making him protest strongly by wriggling and grunting. "Wait, what're you doin'?" he asked, voice cracking and body suddenly sluggish.

Grimmjow didn't respond, merely cracking another devilish grin as he scuttled up the bed and hovered over Ichigo's head. Understanding slowly dawned on him when Grimmjow threw his muscular, right thigh over his face and ducked his head to lock eyes with him. His large hands gripped the wooden headboard and his expression indubitably read "fuck ya waitin' for?"

Heart hammering on his tongue and blood fiery, Ichigo licked his lips and tilted his head back. His arms strained behind his back, and the cuffs dug uncomfortably into his wrists, but he'd be damned if he complained. He was too excited about being able to taste the blue-haired man he'd been dreaming about for so long. He now had a chance to not only erase the crippling feelings of guilt, regret and disappointment, but he had a chance to put to rest his wayward imagination. His tongue flicked out and swiped underneath Grimmjow's covered testicles, the taste of artificial grapes bursting across Ichigo's taste buds.

_So, that was where the smell of grape-flavored candy had been coming from_...

_Christ help him, if he'd known before-hand that it was the man he'd been lusting after for quite some time's underwear_...

Ichigo licked again, this time taking care to drag his tongue more languidly in the same place. It was obvious the underwear was made to disintegrate like a giant fruit roll-up, so more pressure would need to be applied. Ichigo was eager to oblige, especially after his next tongue-swipe drew a low moan from the blue-haired man. Lick after anxious and enthusiastic lick, caused saliva to pool in the back of his mouth from the angle he was laying. The grape candy underwear was quite tasty and Ichigo found himself struggling against the handcuffs keeping his arms firmly secured behind his back, as he tried to lift them in order to grip Grimmjow's shuddering thighs and maybe that perfectly rounded backside.

"Fuck this," Ichigo growled, getting frustrated. "Take these _off_."

Grimmjow glanced back down at him, having tilted his head back while Ichigo had been laving his lower region. "Why should I? I don' think ya suffered enough yet."

Ichigo's eyes widened as the truth of his situation slowly settled in the fog of his brain. "You-you're...this is _payback_?" he asked incredulously, still not believing his ears.

"You could say that," Grimmjow grunted. "I ain't lettin' ya loose, so ya might as well sit back and get used ta bein' bound."

Ichigo snarled and jerked upright, burying his face in the man's soft sac before taking hold of the chewy candy with his teeth, careful not to bite Grimmjow and cause a knee-jerk reaction that might decapitate him. He tugged sharply and the underwear snapped free, allowing Ichigo to gather a large portion of the sweet stuff in his mouth, where he chewed zealously and noisily, then swallowed, watching Grimmjow's surprised face the entire time.

When he was done and the only part of the underwear remaining was decorating his shirt, he licked his lips and grinned at the sight of Grimmjow's naked flesh, thick arousal bobbing excitedly above his testicles. He couldn't resist the urge pressing him, so he sat up and ran his tongue along the underside of Grimmjow's length, satisfied when the man groaned. Grimmjow shifted backwards, allowing Ichigo access to his love rod, which Ichigo gladly took full advantage of. He engulfed the head and moaned lowly at the taste exploding onto his tongue.

_God, the man was absolutely delicious_.

Ichigo bobbed his head forward, taking in half the man's shaft in one go before pulling back and repeating the process, gradually taking in more and more of the tempting, unbending flesh. Grimmjow's hand came down from the headboard and gripped the back of Ichigo's head, his lips curling back in a pleased sneer. "Mmmm," he growled hungrily. "Sss...fuck..."

Ichigo felt like he was on fire from head to toe. Hearing Grimmjow make noises like that, was driving him insane. He wanted to use his hands so badly, if only to fill his hands with the other man's firm ass cheeks as he used them to guide his sucking.

_Stupid handcuffs_.

Grimmjow arched his back and lowered his head, watching Ichigo avidly, and just the sight of those half-lidded, royal blue orbs was enough to make him moan again. Grimmjow grimaced and thrust his hips forward, burying his length in Ichigo's throat. The hand on the back of Ichigo's head tightened as his hips settled into a steady rhythm, his breath coming in short bursts. Ichigo narrowed his eyes in delight as he watched Grimmjow watch him. He hollowed his cheeks and sucked strongly on the musky erection, positively enthralled with the flesh sliding in and out of his mouth.

Grimmjow threw his head back and emitted a loud moan. "Shit's so good," he grunted, blue eyes rolling shut.

"Mmhm," Ichigo agreed, sure that the vibrations from that noise would make the blue-haired man react.

Sure enough, Grimmjow moaned again. "Unnngh."

The bed was squeaking softly from Grimmjow's hip movements, but it was quickly dwarfed by the music coming from the stereo in the corner of the room. Ichigo didn't care. As long as he could continue to hear the tantalizing noises coming from Grimmjow, he was fine.

Grimmjow's pace increased dramatically, his hips pistoning back and forth, his hand grasping Ichigo's head in a death grip as Ichigo's nose met bright blue pubic hairs repeatedly. He was literally being fucked in the mouth. Suddenly, Grimmjow cried out and yanked himself free from Ichigo's orifice, his heavy arousal still twitching energetically. "Shit!"

Ichigo stared up at him in confusion as he watched Grimmjow try to catch his breath. He didn't understand what had just happened, but he'd really been expecting the other man to come. When he hadn't, it had taken Ichigo completely off guard; he really hadn't known what to make of that. What he did know was that his wrists and arms were protesting their binds quite vehemently.

"I. Want. Out. Now, preferably," he stated sarcastically.

Grimmjow shook his head, slid his leg from over Ichigo's face and bonelessly slithered down his shorter body. He poised himself on his arms above Ichigo and pressed their noses together, intense blue eyes locked with lusty and defiant brown. Ichigo was expecting a smart ass remark, but instead received a tender kiss. Stunned, all he could do was lay and absently enjoy the feeling of Grimmjow's surprisingly soft lips. As the blue-haired man pulled back, their eyes met again and panicked bats took flight in Ichigo's gut. Grimmjow's expression was something he was completely unprepared for. Normally devilish and lecherous sea-blue eyes, were now darkened, but soft and smoldering like a dying camp fire.

"Wish I coulda met ya in a different settin'," Grimmjow murmured, his deep voice raspy and throaty.

He dipped his head for another quick kiss, but Ichigo refused to let him get away this time. If he'd had the use of his arms, he would have gripped the back of the man's neck, or head, and held him in place, but since he didn't, he was forced to lean into the kiss and swipe his tongue across Grimmjow's bottom lip before he could back away.

_He did anyway_.

Ichigo frowned his objection and arched into the bigger man. "Don't. Just kiss me back," he suggested softly, his own voice low and guttural.

Grimmjow silently studied his face, his lips pressed into a thin line as he failed to suppress a low growl. Ichigo wanted to grin in triumph when that ethereal face moved towards his again, but all he managed was a quiet sigh. He didn't know why things had changed, but somehow they had. Grimmjow's touch was less careless and more passionate, almost gentle as he opened his mouth to Ichigo's searching tongue and twined it with his own. Grimmjow's big hands slid down Ichigo's sides and hooked underneath the hem of his shirt, where he gingerly pulled the worn garment up, exposing most of Ichigo's chest and torso. His bound arms kept his shirt from being taken off, but Grimmjow managed to work with it just fine, his hands roaming the planes and ripples of Ichigo's mid-section.

The kiss deepened, their tongues mating and merging, wet and noisy. Ichigo groaned as the pad of Grimmjow's thumb rubbed over his left nipple, shooting sparks directly to his pleasure pipe. His fingers were tingling and giving him that anxious, restless feeling, so he shifted in place, trying to relieve the pressure on his arms, while simultaneously trying to keep his mouth connected to Grimmjow's.

_It didn't work_.

With Grimmjow nearly lying on top of him, adding his body weight to the pressure on the cuffs and his arms and wrists, Ichigo uttered a soft whine. He was normally more resilient, but he was horny and uncomfortable: not a good mix. Grimmjow disengaged their busy tongues and lips and opened those beautiful eyes to peer down at him. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Ichigo shook his head and leaned forward, eager to kiss the blue-haired man again, but Grimmjow dodged him and gave him a stern glare. Ichigo, properly chastised, let his head flop back against the pillow as he wiggled his arms. "They're hurting me," he mumbled, averting his gaze in embarrassment.

_He hadn't wanted Grimmjow to know that he was in pain_.

Grimmjow examined his face before sliding his left hand almost inconspicuously under the pillow beneath Ichigo's head. When he brought it back, a slight jingle of metal made Ichigo's entire countenance perk up. _If he wasn't imagining things, it sounded like Grimmjow had just retrieved the keys to his freedom_. Sure enough, Grimmjow reached behind Ichigo's back, lifting him slightly before shuffling around a bit. There was a small click and the left handcuff popped open, liberating his wrist. The other soon followed and Ichigo sat up some, in order to bring his hands from behind his back and rub his aching appendages.

Before he could truly begin to appreciate his emancipation from the metal cuffs, his back met the bed again as Grimmjow pushed him down and resumed his place above him. Ichigo earnestly lifted his lips to meet his blue-haired gift in a bone-melting kiss that involved more tongue and saliva than a trip to the dentist. Only now, he was able to wrap his arms around the man's neck and run his fingers through that sinfully soft blue hair.

_Shit_.

Grimmjow tugged on the hem of Ichigo's t-shirt, while he captured Ichigo's bottom lip between his flawless teeth, nibbling gently before letting his tongue dive back into Ichigo's waiting cavern. A moan wrested itself free from Ichigo's chest as he registered Grimmjow hard, hot and twitching against his thigh through the leg of his dark-blue jeans. Instead of just thinking about it, he reached between their bodies and wrapped long fingers around Grimmjow's erection, marveling at its girth.

"Mm," Grimmjow growled before nipping along Ichigo's jawline, hands busy removing Ichigo's cumbersome clothing, starting with his favorite t-shirt.

Grimmjow immediately moved on to the dark-blue jeans when Ichigo was divested of his shirt, hands becoming clumsy in his haste. Ichigo chuckled, thoroughly amused that he'd been able to reduce the man to the state he was in. Grimmjow glanced down into his eyes, momentarily pausing his harassment of Ichigo's jaw and neck.

"Wha's funny?" he grunted, a frown pulling across his brow.

Ichigo reached up and smoothed the creases from the blue-haired man's brow, happy to have the ability to use his hands, before he ran that same hand down the side of the man's face, making Grimmjow arch his elegant brows in surprise. "We got all night, right?" Ichigo asked, remembering that just because Grimmjow was there at the moment, it didn't mean he wanted or could be there the entire evening.

Grimmjow seemed stunned and disconcerted with Ichigo's previous actions, his eyes locked on the hand Ichigo still held to his cheek. "Yeah," he mumbled, his eyes finally leaving Ichigo's hand to lock on his face. "As long as ya want."

Ichigo tried not to read too much into that statement as he enjoyed the feeling of Grimmjow's hands under the waistline of his jeans. The button popped open and the zipper rasped open. Grimmjow tugged on the hem and Ichigo assisted him by lifting his hips and allowing the man to slowly slid them down, past his ass and over his thighs, where they both got anxious, Ichigo kicking them down to his ankles and Grimmjow yanking them over his feet. Ichigo was left in his cloud blue, knit boxers, which quickly followed his jeans, Grimmjow humming quietly as his naked form was finally revealed.

When the blue-haired man repositioned himself atop him, skin rubbing against skin, hot and taut, Ichigo groaned. Grimmjow's arousal was pressed against his inner thigh, the head already leaking and leaving moist trails in its wake. Before Ichigo could even register Grimmjow's next move, his left nipple was encased in hot, wet satin, his genitals being firmly, but gently massaged. He was hard as adamantium (even though it didn't really exist), but that's exactly how his dick felt as it rubbed against the ridges of Grimmjow's washboard abdomen.

"Mm," he moaned, plowing his right hand through the silken mass of electric blue hair on his gift's head.

_He needed more contact, more friction_..._more everything_.

Grimmjow's fiery lips left Ichigo's nipple and descended towards his abdomen, Ichigo's stomach muscles contracting in anticipation when those same lips kissed his navel before a warm tongue dipped inside. "Fuck," he whispered anxiously.

Grimmjow mouthed and nipped the area directly above his twitching erection before slowly lowering his head and tenderly kissing the underside. Ichigo threw his head back with Grimmjow's next movement, his mouth falling open at the scorching wetness that suddenly surrounded his glans. Grimmjow pulled back, swirling his tongue around it before engulfing it again, this time with more pressure. He suckled and hummed, making Ichigo's back arch involuntarily and Ichigo's hand tighten in his hair.

"Yes," he whispered, his head coming off the pillow to glance down at the man servicing him.

Grimmjow glanced up at his hushed statement as well, causing them to lock eyes. Ichigo swore that he couldn't get any harder, but Grimmjow somehow proved him completely wrong by lowering his mouth over his shaft, taking in more and more of it until his straight nose greeted Ichigo's apricot-hued pubic hairs and the back of his throat massaged the head of Ichigo's member. _He tried_. He really tried to keep his eyes focused on the man between his legs, but when Grimmjow pulled back, went down, then pulled back again faster, settling himself into a steady rhythm, Ichigo couldn't fight the desire to let his eyes roll shut and his head collide with the pillow once more.

He felt like his body had become dead weight, his mind centered on the orgasm building in his nuts. Grimmjow sucked noisily, his head bobbing up...down...up, down...up, down..._shit_...

Ichigo tried to gather his wits about him, but it was surely futile. Grimmjow grasped the base of his length and stroked in the opposite direction of his mouth, the noises he made hungry and enthusiastic. His ass tightened and his hips thrust in time to Grimmjow's sinking motions. If he allowed this to continue, he would come harder than a porn star. His throat was failing to produce moisture, causing his mouth to dry out and hang open.

_His desperate pants weren't helping matters, either_.

"Fuck...Grimm-jow...shit..."

Grimmjow pulled away from his dick, making Ichigo open his eyes and stare at the ceiling in disbelief. _He'd been so close!_ He turned his incredulous gaze to the blue-haired man and growled in agitation. _What the hell?_

Grimmjow crawled over him and reached onto the night table, where Ichigo had apparently missed the conveniently placed, small bottle of unscented, Astroglide lubricant. When he had it in hand, he casually reassumed his station between Ichigo's legs, his blue eyes alive with devilment. "I'm gonna let that one slide, but next time I'm really stoppin'," he said lowly, his baritone husky, lips moist.

Ichigo frowned in confusion (he'd been doing that a lot that night) and stared back at Grimmjow blankly. Then, it slowly crept up on him that Grimmjow was referring to his title, which Ichigo had slipped up on. Smiling sheepishly, he nodded. He was just anxious to have Grimmjow's mouth back on him. Grimmjow didn't hesitate. He immediately lowered his head back to Ichigo's throbbing arousal and settled into his former pace, instantly making Ichigo's toes curl and his hips buck.

Grimmjow's big hands cupped the underside of Ichigo's thighs, spreading them further apart, while his head never ceased bobbing. Ichigo shifted his hips and cocked his legs open, his knees pressed against the mattress. Grimmjow hummed his approval, one hand leaving Ichigo's thigh and sliding down to the sensitive skin of his bottom. When Grimmjow fingered the delicate skin stretched between his anus and testicles, Ichigo arched his back, a choked cry worming its way out of him.

The teasing finger disappeared, but Ichigo was too distracted by Grimmjow swallowing his entire length, that he didn't even notice its absence, until that same finger was back, this time lubricated and easing its way inside his entrance. Ichigo gasped and lifted his hips from the bed, surprised, but melting in pleasure. Grimmjow's finger was submerged inside of him up to the last knuckle before it pulled back and pushed forward again. The rubbing made Ichigo twitch and jerk involuntarily. He was dangerously close to losing his load down Grimmjow's throat, but he wanted the boiling bliss to last a little longer.

He dug his hand into Grimmjow's soft, blue hair and grasped a fistful, tugging gently just as Grimmjow decided another finger inside him was a good idea. Ichigo whimpered helplessly when both fingers curled, coasting over his prostate and nudging him that much closer to release. The hair all over his body lifted in unison, his toes curling as he fought against his impending orgasm.

_Shit_.

_He wasn't going to last at this rate_.

Grimmjow's mouth unleashed his pulsating member into the cool air, making him expel a relieved breath in a gush of air. The concentrated pressure that had been consuming his length now gone, Ichigo was able to concentrate on the thrusting fingers loosening his tight hole. He faintly heard Grimmjow chuckle under his breath, but his knees pressed further into the mattress as the blue-haired man inserted a third finger.

"Fuuuuck," he breathed, his eyes snapping open to glance at the ceiling, then down at the devilish blue eyes gleaming back up at him.

Grimmjow cracked a filthy grin as he began twisting his fingers as he pumped them in and out of Ichigo's restrictive canal. Ichigo moved his hips in time to Grimmjow's steady thrusts, his eyes sliding shut and head falling back against the pillow for what seemed like the umpteenth time that night. His thoughts were all over the place, like scattered jelly beans, but that was so far beyond relevant at the moment. He didn't feel like dragging out his mental broom and dust pan just to gather his fragmented brain; he wanted it to quiver with insanity a bit more, if it meant plummeting to the bottom of the ocean of pleasure he was thrown into.

Liquid fire passed over the head of his dick, making him jump drastically as he nearly came to a sitting position, his back bowing with respect. His eyes flew open in time to see Grimmjow sucking the glans of his erection back into his mouth and teasing it with his wickedly talented tongue.

"Oh my god," Ichigo groaned, his head lolling from side to side in sheer ecstasy. Grimmjow's fingers had become more aggressive, forcing their way in and out of him, his insides clenching around the pounding digits. "Yesss," he hissed, delirious. Grimmjow's ridiculously hot mouth slid over his shaft again and Ichigo thought he would burst into a million, itty-bitty pieces. The blue-haired man curled his fingers once more, violently stimulating his prostate and by sheer force of will, if nothing else, Ichigo was just barely able to hang onto the rivers of lava threatening to erupt from his overly excited member. "I'm gonna come," he whined, his hips and back having a mind of their own.

Without warning, everything stopped as Grimmjow removed his fingers and pulled away from his aching dick. Ichigo's mouth fell open in disbelief and more than a little confusion. _What the fuck had he done this time? He hadn't even said the other man's name, so there had been no way he could have gotten the guy's title screwed up_. _So, what then?_

"Wh-wha?" he babbled incoherently.

Grimmjow smiled down at him, his hand going for the small bottle of Astroglide. "Not yet, Ichigo," he murmured.

Ichigo panted, his chest heaving and trying to draw in enough air to keep him conscious. Grimmjow was fucking with him and it just wasn't fair. There was no reason for the man to behave this cruelly towards him. _Of course, he'd fucked Inoue in his room, but he hadn't know at the time that he was meant to be the man's retirement gift_. _Shit, if he had, it certainly wouldn't have been Inoue up against that wall that night_; _it definitely would have been himself_.

Ichigo growled under his breath and closed his eyes, thoroughly prepared to wait out Grimmjow's merciless torture. When a heated, blunt hardness probed at his entrance, Ichigo only had time to open his eyes and meet the piercing, ocean-blue gaze penetrating his very soul. A startled moan was ripped from him as Grimmjow surged forward assertively, his thick length shoving Ichigo's insides aside as it made itself at home within him. Grimmjow seated himself with a low growl and a sharp nip to Ichigo's chin before Ichigo tilted his head down and covered Grimmjow's alluring lips with his own.

_He wanted to taste the man again_.

Both their mouths opened simultaneously, their tongues dashing forward to meet one another in a familiar dance. Ichigo moaned when Grimmjow rocked his hips from side to side, then cried out when Grimmjow ground him into the mattress, pressing his length deeper into him. "Fuck!" he shouted.

Grimmjow was rubbing him in all the right places and Ichigo just wanted him to move, to fuck him until his nose was bleeding and his head was spinning. Finally, after a few more seconds of grinding agony of the best sort, Grimmjow maneuvered himself onto his hands and pulled back before plunging forward, clearly testing the waters. He appeared satisfied because he grunted shortly and repeated the process, this time spearing Ichigo's insides like meat on a shish-ka-bob.

"Ahh!" Ichigo yelped as his hands went to Grimmjow's broad shoulders and clung to them for dear life.

"Tight," Grimmjow hissed as he thrust forward again. "So fuckin' good."

Ichigo nodded his head obliviously, his bottom lip catching between his teeth. He was so far gone, he was unreachable even by satellite. They kissed again, sloppily, yet sensually, tongues twining and teeth clashing.

_Messy_.

_Clumsy_.

_HOT_.

"Put yer legs over my shoulders," Grimmjow requested, voice guttural and deep.

Ichigo blinked once before hurriedly obeying, his hands falling to his sides. Once his legs were tossed casually over the blue-haired man's shoulders, his mouth fell open in elation. The position afforded them deeper penetration and more friction, so when Grimmjow immediately settled into a swift, bed-breaking pace, all Ichigo could do was moan loudly and try to rein in his runaway breathing. Every thrust was like Grimmjow was reaching his very core, his thick arousal rubbing his walls like a paint-roller.

"Oh god! Fuck yes!" Ichigo exclaimed, his skin crawling and the hair on his body standing stick-straight. He turned his head and gripped Grimmjow's forearms, his fingernails digging crescent moon shapes into the tanned skin. "Shit, isso good," he slurred, his mind blanking as sensation took over his body.

His orgasm was barreling towards him, no brakes in sight. Grimmjow was grunting with every abysmal thrust, his lips pulled back in a concentrated snarl. Ichigo couldn't take his eyes off the man, not that he wanted to. He wanted to rake his fingers through Grimmjow's hair, maybe pull it and moan in his ear for the man to fuck faster, fuck harder. _He wouldn't get the chance, though_. Sweat was beading across Grimmjow's brow as he balanced himself on his left arm and used his right to caress the back of Ichigo's left thigh. In the next instant, he bore down on that same thigh, displaying more of Ichigo's bottom and full entrance.

"Ya like that?" Grimmjow grunted between forceful thrusts. Ichigo nodded, his throat too dry to speak and his mind too numb to think. Shit, a nod was all he _could_ manage. "Say my name," Grimmjow continued, his hips becoming nearly brutal as his pace quickened and grew weightier.

Ichigo gasped. "M-Mr. O-Off-Offi-"

"No," Grimmjow interrupted with a sharp twist to his hips that made Ichigo's back leave the bed. "_My_ name."

Through the haze, Ichigo managed to understand what Grimmjow was seeking. "Gr-Gr...unnngh...GRIMMJOW!" he shrieked.

Grimmjow had just rubbed his ridged abdomen against Ichigo's charged member and it unraveled him like a ball of yarn. His hips cleared the mattress, his eyes squeezed shut, his pelvis tightened and his balls lifted as semen left him in thick threads. His pelvis remained taut as he rode out his orgasm, Grimmjow still pounding away, but face flushed and pinched with resignation. It was obvious he was succumbing to his release, which occurred not even a second after the thought raced through Ichigo's mind, his first clear one in hours.

A loud mixture of a grunt and growl spilled from Grimmjow as his hips finally slowed and rocked languidly against Ichigo's rear. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly, until Ichigo sluggishly lowered his legs from the man's shoulders. Grimmjow was still buried deeply inside him as he allowed his body to gently recline against Ichigo's. They lay there, hearts racing and Ichigo running his fingers through Grimmjow's addictive hair. Ichigo kissed the top of that blue head and sighed in satisfaction. Grimmjow lifted his head, placed a chaste kiss to Ichigo's jaw, then lay his head back down on his chest, his breathing eventually evening out.

Not even ten minutes later, Ichigo was out like a light.

**XxxxxX**

Ichigo tapped his foot impatiently as he paced the waiting room of the closest DNA paternity testing lab. His hands were sweating, his heart thudding against his ribs and his legs demanding he sit the fuck down.

_But he couldn't_.

Inoue was seated across from him, her eyes locked on a science magazine and her lips pursed tightly. Beside her was their three-month old son. The boy had large, cloudy, gray eyes and riotous, apricot-hued hair. Doctors had told him that the kid's eyes were most likely going to change and settle into their real color some time down the line, but it was the hair that was killing him softly.

_Of course, he and Inoue had similarly colored hair, but what if the kid had inherited_ his _hair and not his mother's?_

The fated wedding had gone off without a hitch, and Ichigo had waited until Inoue had given birth and he was sure that any procedure needed to test DNA wouldn't harm the baby. He'd kept himself at a distance from Inoue and the child, not wanting to grow attached to a baby that might not even be his. He knew to outsiders looking in, he seemed like a horrible husband and father, but only his friends and Inoue and her uppity grandparents knew the truth of their sordid situation. He hadn't married Inoue for love; he'd been blackmailed and if there was even one percent of a chance that he could escape with his freedom, he was taking it.

_Damn the odds_.

Inoue had named the boy Keitaro. Had even given the kid his last name and everything. She was so nonchalant about the whole predicament, that Ichigo feared he had fathered the child, but he needed to be sure. He wasn't about to sit back and be taken for a fool.

His tie seemed to be choking him to death as he created tracks in the plush, beige carpet of the waiting room. His white, dress shirt seemed too tight and hot and his pants felt like they were cutting off the circulation to his legs. He knew it was all in his mind, though. He was just agitated and restless. _Anxious_.

The lab had called him at work that morning, explaining that they'd received the results for their test and Ichigo had immediately phoned Inoue at the apartment they shared. He'd told her to meet him there and if the results were negative, be prepared to move back in with her grandparents. She hadn't even raised a fuss, which worried him to no end, but she'd met him at the lab, just as he'd requested.

Suddenly a pink-haired man in a pale-green polo, khaki pants and white, lab coat emerged from another room, a manila folder in his hands. Ichigo panicked, sweat sliding under the collar of his shirt, but he refused to show it. The man approached him, slender hand outstretched. "Kurosaki, Ichigo?" he asked.

Ichigo nodded, the desire to sit nearly overwhelming him. His throat turned into cotton and his palms grew clammy. He was so nervous, he felt like a virgin all over again.

"I'm Dr. Szayel Aporro Grantz. Would you like to take a seat?" he asked amiably, his hand indicating the row of plastic chairs behind them.

Ichigo shook his head, his bright orange bangs swaying with the movement. "Nah, I'm good. Just-just the results," he choked, but tried to hide it with a cough.

Dr. Grantz eyed him with an elegantly arched, pink brow before shrugging one shoulder and opening the folder. He glanced over at Inoue and smiled, a row of pearly white teeth almost blinding Ichigo. He wondered what that was all about.

"Mrs. Kurosaki, would you like to move closer, so you can hear this as well?" the doctor asked, his voice tinged with amusement.

For once, since Ichigo had met up with her at the lab, Inoue shook her head, appearing nervous. _Why wouldn't she want to hear the results? Surely, any woman in her position would want to rub the results in her disbelieving husband's face_. Ichigo huffed quietly and turned his attention back to the pink-haired doctor.

The man emptied the folder, revealing a long sheet of white paper. His mustard-colored eyes quickly roved the page behind a pair of silver, rectangular frames before lifting to meet Ichigo's wide, apprehensive ones. _Christ, he felt like he was gonna shit himself any moment now_. Dr. Grantz adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat, the tension in the room thick enough to slice and hand out on paper plates. Ichigo wanted to snap ferociously at the man and tell him to get a move on it already, but remembered his manners at the last second. It didn't keep him from giving the man a pointed glare, though.

"Mr. Kurosaki...you aren't Keitaro's father."

The words hung suspended in mid-air for several empty seconds before they finally seeped into Ichigo's brain. _He wasn't?_ _He_-

"YOSHA!" Ichigo shouted gleefully as he jumped into the air, arms raised above his head. His heart was trying its hardest to come through his ribs, but he was so happy, he ignored it. He glanced over at a pale-faced Inoue and grinned like the Grinch. "Later," he stated, raising his hand in farewell before walking out of the lab without a look back.

**XxxxxxX**

"Congratulations, bitch!" Nnoitra shouted, clinking his glass of who-knew-what against Ichigo's mug of beer.

"Hear, hear!" Renji chimed in, his flaming red hair loose around his broad shoulders.

"Ichigo Kurosaki, you're a free man! Anything you'd like to say to the crowd?" Ishida asked, hand held in front of his face, imitating a microphone.

Chado stood silently beside the bar, his huge hand wrapped around a mug of Guinness. His dark brown eyes were sparkling with happiness and Ichigo – face-splitting grin and all – was almost moved to tears.

_Almost_.

"Yeah, I got somethin' to say," he said, gearing up to crank out a really crass remark.

A sudden, thick silence made him pause as he scanned the faces of his friends, each wearing secretive, goofy grins. He frowned, knowing they were up to something, but quite unable to put what it was together. He opened his mouth to ask what the fuck was going on, when a strong hand on his shoulder made him jump and whirl around to find its owner.

When he did, he nearly fell out of his chair in shock. _Ever since the night before his wedding and his unforgettable bachelor party, he'd been thinking non-stop about the man standing behind him, hoping he'd be able to see him again one day_. _Hoping that when he woke the next morning, it wouldn't be the last time they would encounter one another_.

"Congrats, Ichigo," he said, voice still just as deep as ten thousand leagues under the sea. Ichigo sputtered unintelligibly, trying to form a coherent sentence that wouldn't make him look like a complete idiot. Electric blue eyes glittered and crinkled in the corners as the man smiled. "Long time, ne?"

Ichigo nodded and smiled himself, finally settling down enough to edge closer to the guy. "Yeah. Too long."

Grimmjow nodded and stepped into Ichigo's space, lowering his mouth to his ear. "I got some more edible undies. Wanna try 'em on?" he rumbled and Ichigo shivered.

"Fuckin' A."


End file.
